Close yet far
by Evangeline Queen
Summary: Alexander Wiggins is an artist. When fate brings him closer to an Indian Brave, what will happen? SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Entirely fictional and I own nothing

Disclaimer: Entirely fictional and I own nothing

A/N: In response to GreyLAW's Pocahontas challenge.

The morning sun shone dimly through the forest. Trees of every kind grew densely throughout, providing shelter for the many woodland creatures who resided in the forest. Wind whispered through, ruffling the hair of the lone individual walked, slowly and silently. The lithe body slide smoothly over the fallen trees and brambles, making no more sound then the wind. The figure stopped, quietly setting what it had been carrying down. Sitting quietly, the man pulled out a pad of paper and a piece of charcoal and began to quietly draw the scene around him. Lush plants, the shining colors of the birds that flitted from tree to tree. To him, this was heaven.

This had become a ritual for the man, who goes by the name of Alexander Wiggins. An accomplished artist in England, Wiggins braved the voyage to the new world in search of new sights and things for him to attempt to capture in his drawings. Since the day the ship had landed, Alexander had been captivated by the forest and its beauty. Many of the settlers warned him not to venture in alone, for the Indian were not taking kindly to the intrusion on their home.

"Maybe it's been the way we've approached them, with our guns and supposedly 'superior' manners." Wiggins thought to himself as he drew, recalling the first time the warnings had been shouted at him as he left. He smiled sadly and shook his head, pushing the thoughts of the others from his head. "Like they'd care if the Indians got me." He thought savagely, "They all think I'm weird and unfit for this life. Mind you, it would give them more reason to slaughter the people here."

Sighing heavily, Wiggins set his pencil and pad down and leaned back against the log supporting him. He loved the feeling of the sun warming his face and closed his eyes against the glare. Relaxing completely, Wiggins allowed himself to be carried off into the land of dreams by the birds' songs and nature's sounds.

_He was standing in a field. Grass came up to his knees, tickling the exposed skin with their almost finger-like touches as they swayed. Arms outstretched; face up in the sun, turning on the spot slowly, he laughed, the sound clear and carefree in this wonderful place. The turning slowed, and then stopped as he looked at his surroundings. Alone but for the trees and the sky, perfectly alone. _

_Turning once more, he now noticed that he wasn't alone for there was a figure in the edges of the trees. He smiled at the figure, somehow knowing it was friend not foe. He couldn't see the features of the figure, only knowing that the body was larger, more muscled then his own. Turning around, he stared at the opposite side of the field, away from the figure._

_Suddenly a pair of strong arms was around his waist, a face pressed into the crook of his neck. But he felt no fear, only relishing in the warm of the body pressed into his back. He twined his fingers with the ones settled on his stomach, holding tightly. Lips brushed his neck softly, leaving butterfly kisses, moving down to his shoulder. He sighed contently, pressing back against the being, grinding his hips slowly._

_Hips pressed back, rubbing sensually against his own as one hand sneaked lower, teasing the skin in its wake. Breath hitching as the large, warm hand teased him; he closed his eyes and leaned his head back onto the shoulder behind him. Inhaling the musky scent of his partner, he bit softly on the skin of the strong neck._

_The hand teasing sped up as he grinded his hips faster…_

Alexander woke abruptly, aware of how cold and utterly alone he was. Opening his eyes wider and taking in his surroundings, Alexander was no longer looking at a clear blue sky but one full of twinkling stars. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the images of his dream, preferring to concentrate on getting home. Sitting up slowly, wincing in pain as his spine straightened out, Wiggins stood up and groggily began to make his way back to his camp. He hadn't intended to sleep that long and was fearful of all the things that go bump in the night that lived in the forest. It was much more dangerous in the forest at night then it was during the day and Wiggins wanted nothing more then to reach his warm, albeit empty, home as soon as he could.

Wiggins moved through the trees faster, slipping on unseen obstacles until he could make out the shining lights of the town. His pace slowed and his hands lower to his side to his bag. Only to grasp nothing more than air. Gasping, Alexander stopped and turned to face the forest. Should he go back and get his precious book? The foreboding look of the dark forest put him off and sighing dejectedly; he turned and continued to head to the town.

Kocoum watched as the red haired white man left, leaving his kit. The man was small, easy enough to defeat should he become a threat. Kocoum moved closer to the abandoned bag, tomahawk raised menacingly should something inside it decide to attack him. It was odd for the man to have left his bag, he always seemed so attached to it. For Kocoum had been watching the man since the first day he had entered the forest. Surprisingly, the man wanted nothing more then to sit, and create pictures with the magic black stick of his.

Kocoum bent down, peering at the pad and what he called "magic stick". Tentative fingers picked up the stick of charcoal, crushing it gently in his large hands, Kocoum was surprised when it felt nothing more then the ash the elders used for war marking. Placing the tomahawk down next to him, he used both hand to pull the pad of paper toward him. Smoothing the pages between his hands, he was again surprised at the texture.

"Juste comme l'écorce d'arbre…" He muttered quietly to himself. Flipping the book open, Kocoum stared at the pages, entranced by the drawing there. He was amazed by the skill this man had. Picking up the bag after putting the book in it, Kocoum vowed to approach the man the next time he saw him. He must know more about these drawings…

Alexander groan, rolling over in his bed and promptly falling onto the floor. Disentangling himself from the blanket that seemed content to strangle him, Alex gazed blearily out of his open window. Patches of sun passed through the dense clouds that populated the sky, creating visible beams that shined into the small cottage. Getting up at the almost audible sound of his stomach growling, Wiggins walked into his shabby kitchen and went straight to the worn cupboards. Opening them slowly,

Alexander stared blankly at the completely empty shelves. Hurriedly closing the cupboard and then flinging the door back open, Wiggins half hope the shelves would have magically filled them selves with food. 'I think the world hates me right now. First my notebook, now my food…' sighing in defeat, Alexander retreated back into his bedroom to get dressed and grab his meager amount of money before heading to the market.

The market was already in full swing by the time Wiggins reach the beaten down path. Stalls full of assorted goods lined the well used path as people bustled to and fro, buying everything and anything from bread and fish to furniture and jewelry. Vendors and customers bellowed loudly at each other as they haggled, each trying to get the best deal out of one another and children ran underfoot as they played their little games.

Wiggins skirted around a particularly large set of women pouring over the jewelers table as he headed towards the bakers hut. The scent of fresh cooked bread wafted out and Wiggins felt his mouth watering at the sight of all the baked goods laid out. After buying a pastry and a few extra loafs of bread, Wiggins ambled down the path as he ate, purchasing the needed items and taking in all of the newer merchandise. He was just heading out when a voice called his name. Turning around, Alexander saw a thin man dressed in servants clothing rushing towards him.

"Mr. Wiggins! Mistress Aberton would like to see you." The man wheezed after having caught up with Alexander. The man was obviously not used to running or more any sort of physical activity and was bent double in attempts to regain his breath. Alexander paled at the name the man said, dread settling itself comfortably in the pit of his stomach

Phyllis Aberton was one of the most frightening people in the settlement. Being bred in high class English society, Aberton saw herself above everyone who didn't live like she did. She was an older woman who could stand to lose a few pounds but nobody dared tell her that for fear of their lives. Aberton was also an avid art collector, her collection containing some of the most sought after pieces known to man. And she had asked Wiggins to draw her something. Only problem…he didn't have is notebook.

"Err…uhm...right." Wiggins stuttered, quickly beginning to follow the man servant back to his mistress. The two men walked quickly, no words passing between them until they reached the carriage where Ms. Aberton sat.

"Wiggins!" she barked and Alexander jumped, "Have you finished my drawing yet?" Aberton stared at Wiggins in disgust. She may love art but Aberton absolutely detested the people who made it. No better then vermin in her eyes.

"N-not exactly…" Alexander replied quietly, looking down at his worn shoes.

"I'm getting impatient boy. I'm not a happy or nice person when I'm impatient. I want my art." Aberton hissed. Alexander nodded mutely, too terrified of the over-bearing woman to respond verbally. With a scowl, Aberton waved a pudgy hand dismissively and Alexander was immediately ushered out of her presence.

Walking away, Wiggins hung is head in defeat. There was no way he was going to be able to re-create Phyllis's drawing. He had spent _hours_ on it, perfecting it to a tee. Unless… he found his notebook. It was for certain gone. For all he knew, his notebook could still be where he left it completely unharmed. Eyes sparkling with hope and a new bounce in his step, Wiggins headed in the direction of the forest, hell bent on finding his notebook.

Jogging lightly through the forest, Wiggins reached his usual drawing spot, pausing to draw breath. Looking to where he thought he had left his book, Alexander's face fell as his blue eyes roamed the moss covered ground only to see nothing. Getting on his hands and knees, Alexander peered under the fallen log on which he usually sat, half hoping that his book was under it but to his dismay it was not. After a fruitless search, Alexander accepted defeat, dropping like a boneless sack onto the log with his head in his hands.

'I'm _doomed._ Positively doomed. Aberton is going to kill me.' Wiggins thought to himself. He knew there was no way he could finish a new drawing to make up for the one that he'd lost and if he didn't have a drawing for Aberton….Wiggins shuddered at the thought of what she'd do to him.

A rustling of leave somewhere near his left brought Wiggins out of his wallowing in self pity, his head shooting up out of his hands. A gasp fell from his lips, his eyes widening as he scrambled backwards over the log before falling flat on his face. Alexander sat there, looking a lot like a fish out of water, as he quaked in fear.

Standing before him was one of the largest Indians Wiggins had ever seen. The man stood at least head and shoulders taller then Wiggins' own lean body. The man was bare foot, his strong legs covered by a pair of animal skin pants. The broad expanse of bare chest looked like it was chiseled out of rock; each muscle defined clearly, was covered in dark swirling tribal tattoos of the man's people. The tattoos ran along the tree like arms, to the large hands. One hand held a wicked looking tomahawk and the other, Wiggins realized with a start, his bag.

Kocoum looked at Wiggins with mild curiosity, finding the way the smaller man seemed to be frozen in fear somewhat comical due to the position. Stepping forward slowly, Kocoum loomed over Wiggins before the man came to his senses, frantically scrambling away from the Indian, but only far enough to be out of reach.

Alexander climbed to his feet, still trembling with fear but determined to find someway to get his bag back from the Indian. He knew the other man meant no harm, so far, because he hadn't done anything remotely threatening. He just sort of…stood there, staring intently at Alexander.

"Erm…Hello?" Wiggins said. The man continued to stare at him.

"Oh, right. You probably can't understand me because you don't speak English so you're probably hearing a whole bunch of syllables so me talking is pointless so I'll just stop." Wiggins said in a rush, all the while gesturing wildly with his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm notorious for having really short chapters, so my apologies if you like long ones

A/N: I'm notorious for having really short chapters, so my apologies if you like long ones.

Kocoum looked at the red haired man in awe, his wild gesturing made Kocoum want to laugh out loud. Refraining, Kocoum thought about how to approach the smaller man without him bolting. It was saddening because all the Indian wanted to do was communicate with the man. But also made him swell with pride, knowing how easily he could strike fear into the others heart.

Watching the English man more closely, Kocoum saw how he was staring fearfully at the tomahawk held in firmly in his hand. Realizing this, Kocoum turned, walked back a few steps, and set the weapon on a rock. It was still in his reach should he need it but far enough that the other man knew that Kocoum meant no harm.

Alexander watched in amazement as the mountain of a man set his weapon down and turned back to him. 'So he doesn't want to hurt me.' Wiggins thought to himself. Millions of thoughts were running through Alexander's head but all thoughts left as the Indian neared again.

This time, Wiggins held his ground, refusing to listen to the little voice in his head telling him to run for his life.

Kocoum stopped a few feet from Wiggins, and stared yet again. Though the man still trembled, he had a determined look in his eyes and Kocoum was surprised. The other man looked up at him apprehensively. Tentatively, Wiggins stuck his hand out.

"My name is Alexander Wiggins." He said, attempting to sound forceful but failing when his voice quivered and broke. Kocoum stared at the white hand in front of him, wondering what the strange man was doing. Alexander dropped his hand when the Indian only stared.

Pointing to himself, Wiggins repeated his name slowly. Then pointing at the larger man, he waited expectantly. Repeating the gesture a few times, Kocoum finally figured out that the man was asking his name.

"Kocoum." The Brave said in a deep, sharp voice. Alexander smiled when he got the answering name. Now just to get his bag back.

"My bag, can I have it back?" Wiggins asked softly, gesturing to the sack that hung by Kocoum's hip. The Indian Brave looked down to where the English man was pointing.

« Oui mais c'est quoi? Comment es-ce que les images sont la? » (Yes, but what is it? How are the images there?) Kocoum asked. Wiggins stared up at the man in confusion, not understanding a word he just said.

Kocoum saw the look of confusion on Wiggins' face and realized the man couldn't understand him either. Sighing, Kocoum slipped the strap of the bag off his shoulder. Alexander's hands shot forward eagerly, but Kocoum pulled the bag sharply out of reach.

Disappointment flashed across Wiggins face when Kocoum pulled his bag away. Bringing the bag back in front of him, Kocoum pulled out Wiggins' sketch pad, letting the rest of the bag fall to the ground. Wiggins flinched when he heard his supplies hitting the ground. Some would surely be broken. But Alexander's attention was drawn back to the man holding his pad, as he pointed at his drawing of a bird sitting on the tree branch.

« C'est quoi? » (What is it?) Kocoum demanded, pointing to the drawing again. He just had to know how this small man had captured such beauty.

"My drawing?" Wiggins answered confused. What did this Indian want with his drawings? Surely he had no use for them.

"Draw…rings?" Kocoum repeated slowly, his English odd sounding with his heavy accent.

"Yes, drawings. I'm an artist." Alexander answered the question in Kocoum's voice. Clearly the man didn't know what an artist was or what drawing was.

Reaching out tentatively, Alexander pulled his pad out of the Indians fingers. Reaching down, he pulled out a piece of charcoal and flipped to an empty page. Settling down on the log, pad on his lap, Wiggins looked at Kocoum intently.

Then his eyes darted back to the paper in front of him and his hand holding the charcoal began to move, creating lines and shapes on the white expanse. Kocoum stared fascinated as the other man worked, watching the paper with interest as the lines continued to form. Wiggins continued to draw, glancing back and forth between the notepad and Kocoum.

After a few minutes, Alexander sat up straight and looked up at Kocoum. Turning the note book towards the larger man, Kocoum gasped at what he saw. Staring back at him was an exact copy…of himself. Perfect to the last feature, Kocoum was amazed with what he saw. Reaching out, his fingers brushed his own face then the face staring back at him from the page. This had to be magic.

Wiggins watched in equal fascination as Kocoum looked at his drawing. Astonishment was clear as day on his face and Alexander couldn't help but laugh softly. Kocoum looked up at the sound into Alexander's smiling face and a smile of his own broke across his stern features.

"You can have it if you like." Wiggins said. Turning the notebook back towards himself, Wiggins tore the page out of the book and held it out to Kocoum. The other man simply stared for a long moment before gingerly taking the paper in his own large hands. He held it like it was made of the most precious thing in the world.

Looking up at Wiggins again, Kocoum asked with his eyes if he could really keep it. A smile in return was all he needed to know that this beautiful creation was really his.

Wiggins looked down and gestured to his bag again, silently asking permission to take it. Kocoum nodded and watched as Alexander leaned down, replacing his pad in the bag and gathering it up, slinging it over his shoulder.

"I have to go home now." Wiggins said, pointing through the trees towards the settlement. He began to retreat slowly, still unsure whether the Indian understood him. Kocoum simply watched as the red haired man retreated further into the woods, back toward his own home.

Kocoum looked down at the drawing he still held, a soft smile on his face. He liked "Alexander Wiggins". Turning, Kocoum began his way back to his own tent, still thinking about the other man.

A/N: It takes me forever to update fics so please be patient. Usually if I have someone telling me they want more wink wink I get my butt into gear. So till next time, my darlings.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Okay so I've finally got this chapter finished. I decided it wanted to hate me and never get done. And yes, Kocoum is MAJOR OOC in this chapter but it's the only way it wanted to work. Now please review for all my hard work

"NO NO don't do _that!_" Wiggins screech, an octave high enough to make your ears ring, as he started forward, pulling his precious art supplies away from the large Indian before him.

"Look at what you've done! You've just wasted all of my paint!" the distraught man said slightly lower, cradling the broken tube of paint to his chest. "It was my favorite color."

Staring with tear filled eyes at the rocky ground between the two men, now decorated a lovely shade of teal. It piled up in a messy spiral, spilling unceremoniously over to the left, staining the dried leaves and small rocked in its oily substance.

Kocoum stared at the now slumped man sitting on the fallen log, his head in his hands. He had never meant to make Alexander sad. All he wanted to do was investigate this mysterious substance further. The semi-liquid that resembled the color of Wiggins' eyes. Kocoum never thought the other man would react so negatively.

"I…sorry?" The Native said softly, his English heavily accented but passable. He got up and crouched down in front of the red haired man. Large brown hands reached up and pulled smaller white ones off of the face of the other man, grasping them between his own.

Wiggins looked up when Kocoum pulled his hands away from his own face. Watery blue eyes stared into dark brown, where apology was clearly visible. Sighing, Alexander gave a small smile at his Indian friend.

"It's okay." Alexander said. His smile grew wider at the look of relief on the Brave's face. It was absolutely adorable. Dropping his eyes, Wiggins looked at the larger hands still encircling his own. They dark coffee color of Kocoum's skin contrasted beautifully with Wiggins' own porcelain skin. It was a picturesque, the way his hands fit almost perfectly into that of the other mans.

Quickly realizing that they were still holding hands, Wiggins pulled his hands out of the other man grasp and he got up slowly. Kocoum stood up with the Englishman, still staring at him for his reaction. Walking past the taller figure, Wiggins moved to the almost empty tube of the paint. Maybe there is still some he could salvage.

They'd been meeting like this for little over a month now. Both coming to the place they first met to see each other. They'd attempt to talk, each teaching the other a bit of their native tongue mainly through pointing at an object, than saying the name. The other would try to repeat the same word and the two would go on like that for hours on end. It was a peaceful time for both parties, a chance to enjoy an almost forbidden company.

"Well I must be getting back now." Wiggins said as he started to pack his things up, making the gesture the two had created to signify they had to leave.

"D'accord (OK.)" Kocoum replied, watching as the other man gave a small wave and smile before turning and heading down the newly made path to the English settlement.

Kocoum turned, heading towards his own home. Walking through the changing leaves, the bright reds and yellows, the Indian became lost in his own thoughts about the Englishman. He liked him, that much was for sure. But sometimes Kocoum would find himself thinking about what the other man when they were apart. It was slightly disturbing how much that red haired main penetrated his thoughts. There was only one person he trusted enough to help him figure these things out. Now it all depended on if she'd help him.

Pocahontas sat underneath the swaying branches of Grandmother Willow, Meeko sitting in her lap as he munched happily on something. Her long, black hair hung midway down her back aside from the few flyaway's dancing happily in the light breeze. Pocahontas's hands played idly with the tail of the raccoon sitting in her lap, her posture the epitome of someone lost in thought.

"Some one comes to seek you wisdom, my child." The soothing voice of the ancient willow tree announce before disappearing into it's hidden home. Looking up at the announcement from the tree, Pocahontas spies Kocoum picking his way carefully through the reeds.

"What brings you here?" The young Indian woman questions in their native tongue once Kocoum has reached her. There's a small amount of animosity in her voice as she regards the large male carefully. Ever since the incident with John Smith, Pocahontas had been incredibly careful around Kocoum.

"I….I need your help." Kocoum says, attempting to look strong but the minute stutter in his speech shows his true nervousness. He stands tall, legs slightly parted with his arms down by his sides. His large hands closed into fists and then released repeatedly as he waited for the response of the girl in front of him.

Still holding Meeko to her chest, Pocahontas stands, walking closer to Kocoum. She stands just under his chin, her large almond eyes staring up into Kocoum's eyes with unchecked curiosity. The larger man tries to hold her gaze, but drops his eyes to the leafy ground. Kocoum begins to fidget under the unnerving gaze, his instincts telling him to run but his pride telling him to wait it out.

"Well what can I help you with?" Pocahontas suddenly announces, returning to her previous spot with a smile on her face as she gestures to Kocoum to sit next to her. Warily the Indian man sits next to Pocahontas, maintaining a safe distance from her as he regards her with caution. It's not natural for someone to go from being almost threatening to insanely happy in his books.

"I need your advice...on a personal problem." Kocoum answers hesitantly, unsure how word himself.

"_Really? _The great Kocoum is coming to me for advice?_"_ Pocahontas says; surprises and mockery clear in her voice as a smirk graces her fine features. Kocoum immediately bristles at the mockery, his body stiffening and his face falling into a harden mask of indifference.

"Don't mock me." He warns, "If you aren't going to help me I'll just leave." The large male rises and turns to walk away from Pocahontas when a thin hand on his shoulder stops Kocoum.

"It was just some fun brother, calm yourself." Says Pocahontas, her clear soprano soft. Leading Kocoum back under the swaying branches of Grandmother Willow, the two Indians sit with their backs against the trunk of the large tree with their feet dangling in the water.

"What's your problem?" Pocahontas asks again, "and this time I promise not to mock you."

"I'm confused." Kocoum answers after a moment's hesitation. It felt so awkward to be talking to his once lover about something like this. The two had been wary around each other but Pocahontas was the only one Kocoum could trust with something like this.

"About what?"

Kocoum fidgets nervously under the curious look Pocahontas is giving him. He looks out over the lake, taking in the calm mood of the peaceful place. Lilly pads and cattails swaying in the slight current as insects flew from flower to flower. The faint trickling of water was heard as the woodsy scent of the surrounding forest hung in the air.

"There's this person…and I'm confused….about how I feel about them." Stutters the distraught male as his hands shift restlessly in his lap.

Pocahontas stifles a giggle at the antics of her companion, and instead focuses on the task at hand. "Well when you see them, what do you feel?" she questions.

Pausing for a moment, Kocoum thinks back to the first thing he does every time he sees the red haired English man. "I can't stop smiling… my heart starts to beat faster and I just feel so happy now that I'm with them."

"And how about when you're with them? How do you feel then?"

"Free and happy. Like someone just lifted this….weight off me and I can be myself." Kocoum answers, a secretive smile gracing his thin lips as he remembered the morning he had spent with Alexander.

"Now, how about when you leave this person?" Pocahontas asks, though she knows just from the first two answers how exactly Kocoum is feeling about this 'person'.

Kocoum pauses, his features darkening at the thought. "I fell like I'm loosing a part of me. I don't ever want to let him leave."

At the word _him_ Pocahontas's eyebrows shot up into her forehead as her mouth dropped open in shock. This entire time she thought Kocoum had been talking about one of the pale skinned girls down by the sea, not a man. Hearing Pocahontas's gasp of shock, Kocoum looks up and all color in his copper face drained. He never intended to tell Pocahontas that his problem involved a male.

"You're…you're in love with a man?" Pocahontas stutters, shock the only emotion clear on her face.

"…yes, I think so." Kocoum answers quietly, his head hanging in shame. Now the entire village will know, and he'll be an outsiders. Though same sex relationships weren't looked down upon in the tribe, they weren't exactly supported. The strong males were supposed to have the children to continue the bloodline whereas the smaller, weaker males were freer to have relationships that didn't result in children. Sadly, Kocoum, being one of the strongest males in the tribe, was expected to have many strong children too.

After recovering from her shock, Pocahontas looks over at the now insecure male sitting beside her. Placing a hand on the muscled thigh, Pocahontas offers a smile to Kocoum. "Don't worry; your secret is safe with me. As for this man, you should let him know how you feel. You never know what could come from it."

Kocoum nods, relief flooding his body knowing that he now has an ally and a friend in the beautiful Indian woman.

"But I must be going now." Pocahontas says as she stands, still carrying Meeko. Kocoum stand with her, grasping her shoulder in an affectionate gesture. "Just know that if you ever need advice again, I'm here"

Pocahontas turns and begins to walk away, her long hair blowing behind her as agile feet take her from rock to rock. Kocoum watches her leave, willow branches dancing across his toned body as he thinks on what to do about his newly realized love for a certain Alexander Wiggins.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: To everyone who's been reading this, I'm so sorry for the major delay on this part. Life was deciding to be a bitch and I just couldn't find the time to write. But I've finally gotten this finished :] so I'm happy now.**

**Thank you to everyone who continued to read and review this, or add it to your favorites and alert lists. It makes me very happy that people like my writing. Now please continue to read and review and you'll all be my heroes. I LOVE YOU ALL. **

Alexander fidgeted nervously, pulling at the lapels of the stiff coat he wore. The coat was hot and heavy in the humidity even though he was indoors. Standing in one of the many rooms Aberton house, Wiggins stood out like a thorn in the elegantly furnished sitting room. Large plush chairs were placed strategically around the large room, their dark ebony wood blended nicely into the dark carpet they sat upon. Painting of various landscapes adorned the cream walls, much like trophies to the room. On the far northern wall sat a large fireplace with intricate carvings in its edges. On the opposite wall where 3 large polished bay window that gave whoever sat in the room a perfect view of the village below. Everything in the room was ornate and perfect in everyway, almost as though they were mocking the young artist for his imperfections.

Alexander hated coming to this house with a passion, but if he wished to be paid for his hard work, it had to be done. Aberton insisted that Alexander delivered each drawing himself, and also that he wore the most uncomfortable, or in her opinion, fashionable clothing the young man own.

He had been standing awkwardly in the sitting room for some time, after being shown there by a young servant girl before being allowed to deliver the drawing. Alexander longed to sit down but fear that he would stain the immaculate cushions of the chairs with his unworthiness. His feet ached from the pointed shoes he wore, and there was a persistent itch between his shoulder blades that no matter how he shifted in the stiff wool, refused to leave him be.

"Miss Aberton is ready for you." Came the voice of the same servant girl, startling Wiggins out of his thoughts. He stared doe eyed at the small girl standing between the large doors before following her out and through the maze of corridors and room to where Aberton resided. Their brisk journey ended when the girl stopped abruptly before a set of double doors. She rapped her knuckles on the polished wood of the door before ushering Wiggins inside.

Aberton's large bulk was perched precariously on a stool the looked about ready to collapse beneath her. To her left sat a table laden with plates of food, their enticing aromas wafting to Alexander, the grumbling in his stomach reminding him of the fact he hadn't eating today. His appetite was quickly ruined as soon as he set eyes on the aging woman. She was scantily clad in a silk bed dress, its material stretch to the max around her large frame. Fat spilled over the edges of the garment in the most unappealing of fashions. It looked as though someone had tired to shove a baby whale into a toddler dress and the result had Wiggins suppressing the urge to gag.

"I see you've _finally _got my drawing finished, boy?" Aberton drawled, gnawing at an apple, its juices spilling unceremoniously down her face, its red flesh being turned into pulp by gnashing teeth.

"Yes ma'am." Wiggins replied quietly; face down to avoid having to watch the disgusting scene before him.

"Well what are you waiting for?! Bring it here!" The overweight woman barked, her words muffled by the amount of food she managed to shovel into her mouth.

Alexander approached cautiously, stopping a few feet from the intimidating woman. He held the drawing out to her, protected by a cover of leather, with shaking hands. Aberton snatched the folder greedily with grease stained fingers, eagerly opening the flap to peer at the drawings inside.

Shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other, Alexander waited patiently for the verdict on whether or not the monstrosity of a woman in front of him was please with his work and was going to pay him. It wasn't a rare occurrence for Aberton to deem his work unacceptable, forcing Wiggins to re-do the drawings till she was satisfied and refusing to pay him until she adored the final product. Ms. Aberton made odd little noises as she flipped through the book he had brought and Wiggins was unable to tell whether or not they were noises of approval.

Finally, after much waiting on Alexander's part where he thought of all the possible ways Aberton could maim him, the large woman looked toward the nervous artist with beady black eyes that were framed with wrinkles. "Well done boy. They're…satisfactory. You shall be paid this time, in full."

Internally Wiggins rejoiced. That was the closest to a compliment he'd ever gotten from the demanding woman, and to be paid in full without any sort of deduction for his lateness was astounding.

"Th-thank you, Madam." Wiggins said quietly as he bowed to Aberton, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He couldn't wait to get home, and then go to the forest to find his Indian friend.

"I wish we could be more then friends though" Alexander thought to himself before ridding himself of those thoughts. He needed to focus on the task at hand. Come nightfall, when he lay in his bed, is when he could think of Kocoum. Dreaming of those strong arms with the intricate designs wrapped around his small pale body. Imagining the feeling of the large body hovering over top of him as they rutted against one another. Wondering what it would feel like to kiss those lips and what Kocoum would taste like. Alexander often thought he would taste like something woodsy, almost the same way that the Indian Brave smelt like. Often, whenever Wiggins would be teaching something the larger male would stand close, and Alexander would be enveloped in the smell of pine and smoke that seemed to emanate from the other man.

Wiggins mentally shook himself as he felt his body reacting to the thoughts of the other man. It would _not_ bode well for him to become aroused right now. Aberton, if she managed to notice, wouldn't take kindly to that fact. Or she might take it too kindly and Wiggins shuddered to think at what could happen because of that.

As a servant stepped to hand Alexander a velvet purse full of coins, Aberton once again looked over at Wiggins, "I have one more thing for you to do. My nephew over in London is also an art collector, like myself. He wants a drawing of the savages. Get it for him. And I'm not talking about some scribble of a shape in the distance. He wants one up close and personal and _very_ detailed. And don't think that you can just take some random model and change the features a bit. I want to know that you used an actual Indian as a model." With that demand, the whale of a woman waved him off before turning to the table of food and proceeding to shove her face.

Wiggins turned and followed yet another servant who led him back to the main door.'A drawing of the savages?' Alexander pondered. Where could he get one of those? Almost hitting himself for his stupidity, the red head realized he could simply use Kocoum as a model, and get Aberton her drawing that way. It would also give him a better reason to be hanging out in the forest so much. The rest of the villagers were starting to get a bit suspicious of his daily wanderings into the forest. When word spread that he needed to get a drawing of the Indian, no one would suspect much of him being in the forest so much. A smile spread across the pale face a Wiggins walked back towards the village, whistling a jaunty tune. The servants stood watching him with a look of unmasked shock on their faces. How could anyone be so happy after being ordered to get a drawing of the savages? Obviously the man was insane. Shaking their heads, the servant turned back to the house, returning to their duties.

Kocoum sat in their usual meeting place, a large open field littered with small trees and rocks. Moss grew on the rocks, dappling their drab gray with vibrant green. Wild flowers grew in unknown patterns, their petals of varying shades swaying in the occasional breeze. Large pine and redwood trees along with other unknown species lined the clearing, their twisted arms full of leaves reaching to the lapis coloured sky. Sun shone brightly through the few puffy clouds meandering their way across the sky, provide small patches of shade here and there. A bubbling stream provided a quiet sound to the still of the clearing, punctuated only by the rustling of leave or the sharp calls of the birds. It was a haven of sorts for the two men, a place were they were free to be who they wanted, out of preying eyes.

A rustling to his right had Kocoum immediately sitting up straighter, dark eyes staring through the trees as he attempted to figure out who was coming into the clearing. Muscles tensed underneath copper skin as he prepared to pounce on whoever came into clearing, be them foe. A huge grin split the serious mask when a splash of red that contrasted beautifully with the bright greens and rich browns of the forest.

The large smile took on a mischievous edge as Kocoum ducked out of sight behind the rock the same moment Alexander walked into the field. Bright blue eyes scan the clearing, looking for Kocoum and the Indian Brave doesn't miss the flash of disappointment when Alexander fails to see him. The grin grows wider as he watches Wiggins move further into the field, depositing his satchel along the way. The dull brown of the leather is quickly swallowed up by a patch of blue wildflowers and tall grass.

The red head, Kocoum's unknown prey, continues to walk into the field, his jacket falling to the ground, leaving him only in a pair of tan pants and a stark white shirt the rivals Alexander's skin for the palest object in the field. Stopping, blue eyes close as a head tilts back, skin soaking up the comfortable warmth of the sun. Stealthily moving closer, Kocoum crouches, using his hunting skill to remain as quiet as possible as he nears the other male. Once within reach, Kocoum pounces on the unsuspecting red head.

An undignified noise, akin to a scream, leaves Alexander as he feels himself being tackled by a large, warm force. The two bodies crash to the ground, rolling unceremoniously in the tall grasses before coming to a gentle halt. Wiggins looks up into mischievous dark eyes and a large grin replaces the worries look that previous graced the artist features. The low rumbling laughter coming from the man atop him inspires Alexander's own laughter, baritone and soprano mixing harmoniously in the quiet meadow.

Once the two men have quieted, they both lay still, copper covering ivory, legs tangled together. A bird's song is the only sound in the meadow aside from the slight panting of the two men and the quiet rustling of the grass in the wind. Kocoum stares down at the flawless face of Wiggins, with the large blue eyes full of curiosity, and a slight smile gracing the thin lips. Electricity cackles between the two men, brown as locked to blue, one large body hovering over the slighter form of the other. Ever so slowly, Kocoum lowers his face to Alexander's, eyes still boring into bright blue.

Wiggins is first shocked when Kocoum's face comes closer, his breath halting in his throat. Kocoum stops, lips just inches from Alexander's, and the latter almost groans in disappointment. Kocoum's eyes hold a silent question, the unuttered request for permission to continue. To response, Alexander lifts his head, closing the gap between their mouths.

Two sets of eyes slip closed as lips mold against one another, the gentle pressure and slow movement sparking the ever present passion between the two men. A questioning tongue brushes against pale lips gently, and Alexander opens his mouth to allow the smooth muscle into his mouth.

There's no battle for dominance, just playful submission as Kocoum's larger frame presses Wiggins into the soft grass beneath them. Alexander shifts, bringing one knee up so that Kocoum rests comfortably between the clothed thighs. The kiss ends slowly, allowing the two participants to quietly catch their breaths as they continue to look into each other's eyes.

A pale hand reaches up to cup a strong jaw before curious fingers map out the planes of Kocoum's face. The pads of Alexander's fingers run lightly over broad cheekbones, the gentle slope of a nose, across predominant brows before a thumb lightly traces the contour of dark lips. Kocoum's eyes flutter closed at the gentle ministrations, relishing in the feeling of the cool hands running over his face. The light pressure of the base of his skull urges him forward, reinitiating the kiss.

The kiss becomes more passionate, tongues flitting from mouth to mouth in a game of chase. Kocoum bears his weight down upon Wiggins, pushing him further down into the ground. Large copper hands roam, one hand supporting Kocoum, the other brushing down Alexander's ribs, along the curve of his abdomen before clutching a thin hip tightly. Wiggin's arms are wrapped tightly around Kocoum's broad shoulders, fingers digging into the dark skin, leaving faint crescent moon imprints.

Kocoum breaks the contact between their mouths again to trail feather light kiss across a pointed chin, down to the pale column of Alexander's neck. Small, breathy gasp leave the red head as Kocoum sucks on the junction behind the ear. Hands so accustomed to holding charcoal and paintbrushes now card through obsidian colored hair, nails scraping along the scalp when the sucking turns into gentle bites.

Kocoum pulls back, admiring the blood blooming beneath the thin membrane of skin, turning the pale skin dark purples and blue. Eyes flit back to the blushing face; thin lips opened as Wiggins pants quickly. The pupils are dilated on the blue eyes, sparking another wave of arousal through Kocoum when he realizes this.

Much to Kocoum's surprise, Alexander manages to flip the pair so that he's now resting comfortably astride the barely clad hips of his companion. Both of Kocoum's hands settle on Alexander's hips, thumbs rubbing small circles along subtle jutting out bone. Alexander leans forward, hands braced against Kocoum's pectorals, lining up perfectly with the bear paw print tattoos. Lips descend once again, but only for a scant moment. Kocoum tries to follow when Alexander pulls away, but the playful twinkle in the bright blue eyes persuades Kocoum to lie back and allow Alexander his fun.

Lips brush against copper skin, following the previous path of pale hands along Kocoum's face. Kocoum shudder's again at the sensation, sending wonderful feelings down to his groin. Kocoum gasps when the wet swipe of a tongue along his collar, over his Adam's apple and up to his ear. Small nips and bits are punctuated by the hot air puffing over the sensitive ears. Tremors run through Kocoum, lighting a passion within the Indian Brave that he had never felt before.

Hands clutch thin hips and Kocoum turns his head, catching a surprised Alexander in a ferocious kiss. Teeth clank and tongue wrap around one another, as Kocoum reaches on hand up to pull roughly at ginger hair. The kiss, once matching the violent waves of a tsunami, slows to a gentle lapping of water against the bank, lips brushing slowly against one another.

A pale, long fingered hand ventures southward, only to be caught by a calloused hand. Alexander regards with unmasked hurt, thinking his advances are being rejected by the large Indian. Kocoum brings the captured hand to his moth, kissing the pads of each finger and the palm before placing said hand back on his chest. Strong arms wrap around Alexander's waist and should, pulling him down till his head rested on Kocoum's naked chest.

"Pas maintnant, chere. (Not now, dear)" Kocoum whispered.

Looking up, Alexander understood that he wasn't being rejected, his advances simply being different to a different time. He settled himself on the broad chest, listening to the strong thumping of the heart beneath his ear. Closing his eyes, Alexander sighed in pleasure as a hand rubbed soothing circles along his back and the other brushed through his ginger hair.

"Je t'aime. (I love you)" Came the quiet rumble of Kocoum's voice as he continued to pet the man resting in his arms.

With another small sigh, Alexander succumbed to sleep, finally feeling safe and content in the arms of the man he loved.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I OWN NOTHING. Completely and utterly fictional. By no means am I making any profit out of this work of fiction.

**Authors Note:** This chapter, yes very overdue, was co written with the amazing Alex (super-kamikazi-frogs[or however it's spelt]). Okay I lied, she pretty much wrote it all, I just edited it. So all credit goes to her for being my savior for this story. You're my hero. :] and guess what?! SEX! Onto the story!

Kocoum awoke to a heavy weight on his chest and looked down at the red head atop him. This man, this Alexander Wiggins, set his blood rushing like no other. The smaller man was too beautiful for Kocoum to comprehend. The small, supple body did things to Kocoum that usually left him with all kinds of problems when they parted most evenings. He still couldn't believe he had stopped the other man earlier in the day when Alexander had so obviously wanted to start something.

"Mmmm…" Kocoum was startled out of his musings by the movement, and sound, of Alexander above him. He sat up slowly, holding the other body to him as he did. He loved the feel of the silky red hair beneath his chin; of the smaller hands encased in his.

"_Bonjour, beauté._ (Hello, beauty.)" Though Kocoum knew Alexander couldn't understand him, he still loved talking to the other man.

"Hey." Alexander's soft voice sent warm sparks shooting through Kocoum. He love the sound of Alexander's voice, no matter he could only understand a little of what was spoken. Just the sound of Kocoum's voice was enough to send pleasant shivers through his body.

"_Bonjour_. (Hello.)" Alexander sent Kocoum a confused look, not understanding what he was saying. Kocoum raised his hand and waved, then repeated himself. A look of realization dawned on Alexander's face and he repeated Kocoum's greeting. Alexander picked up a rock and looked toward Kocoum expectantly. "_Roche_. (Rock.)" Alexander repeated after Kocoum, albeit with some difficulty, then said the English word for it, and had the other man repeat it too.

They carried on with words like grass (_herbe_), tree (_abre_), and goodbye (_au revoir_). Then the red head had kissed Kocoum on the cheek and all reserves were down.

The dark haired Indian Brave gently pushed Alexander into the soft green grass and looked down into impossibly bright blue eyes. He brought his mouth close to the smaller man's and Alexander tilted his head up for the kiss. He was surprised however when Kocoum spoke, his voice nothing more than a husky whisper

. "_Bouche._ (Mouth)" Dark, thin lips dipped toward full red ones for the briefest of kisses. Alexander repeated the word when the kiss was broken. "_Nez_. (Nose)" Eyes locked and lips again touched skin, only this time it was the pert nose that was graced with a kiss. Again the word was repeated and again eyes locked, until soft brown eyes closed and lips placed butterfly kisses on the pink lids. "_Oeils_. (Eyes)"

"Eyes." Alexander's voice was breathy and needy. He could feel Kocoum's arousal through both of their pants. His body was arching with want and he couldn't stop the moans that escaped him throat. Kocoum divested them both of their shirts and admired the pale beauty laid out before him. Alexander was doing much the same to the muscular body above him.

"_Caisse._ (Chest)" Kocoum had moved down his body and was placing kisses along Alexander's chest. The dark, sinful mouth moved over a pert nipple and Alexander let out a loud groan. The Indian smirked and put his mouth over the tender piece of flesh, sucking lightly and causing the man below him to arch violently. Kocoum added small bites to his sucking and the amount of reaction he got surprised him. The pale man arched and grabbed at Kocoum's exposed back, keening and moaning incomprehensible words. Crescent moon indents were left behind in the dark skin due to the force of Alexander's grip as he withed in pleasure beneath the other man, brown eyes were wide and the cheeks flushed.

"_Je vous veux. (_I want you._)"_ There was no need for Alexander to translate what Kocoum was saying. He could see it in the black eyes, in the way the Indian man was looking at him with such obvious lust. Beside that lust was the love that Alexander could feel in every loving touch and kiss bestowed upon him. "_Je Vous aime._ (I Love you.)" Those were the last words spoken between the two men for quite awhile.

Alexander tugged at Kocoum's hair until the larger man slid back up his body and brought warm lips together. They fought playfully for dominance for a few minutes before Alexander submitted and let himself be ravished. The two rocked against each other, their pelvises aligning to press their aching length against one another. Kocoum's hands strayed downward, gently tweaking sensitive nipples, before pulling dark pants from smooth, pale legs. There was a moment that Alexander was embarrassed. He couldn't help but compare himself to the solid muscular form of the man above him.

Whereas Kocoum was solidly built, with muscles that showed even through his deerskin clothing, Alexander was small and willowy, with soft features. Instead of the sharp square jaw that the Indian Brave had, the pale man had a softer, and more rounded jaw line. That feeling passed, though, when Kocoum shed his own pants. After that Alexander was too caught up in admiring the man above him and just enjoying the feelings that were produced as skin met skin as they continued to rock.

And then the pace slowed some. Instead of the frantic movement of before, their loving took on a gentler feeling. It was with a heady reverence that Kocoum stroked Alexander's most sensitive place. Alexander gasped and grabbed softly at Kocoum's back, smoothing over the strong shoulders before gripping again. Kocoum brought one hand up to his own mouth and sucked two of his fingers into the warm cavern. Alexander watched with hooded eyes before pulling at Kocoum's wrist. With a look of mild surprise on his strong features, Kocoum watched as Wiggins' soft pink mouth wrapped around his index and middle finger. A tentative tongue lapped at the digits and Kocoum watched in fascination as Alexander set to his task of thoroughly coating said digits with saliva.

"_Beauté..._ (Beauty...)" Kocoum breathed the word as he pulled his fingers out of Alexander's mouth and slid a spit-slicked finger into the man beneath him. Alexander arched under him, mouth opened and a choking sound escaping. "_Je suis désolé._ (I'm sorry)" Kocoum rained kisses along the pale man's face, trying his best to distract him from the pain Alexander was feeling as he slid a second finger in beside the first. "_Je sais qu'il fait mal, cher._ (I know it hurts, dear.)" He entered a third finger, scissoring them gently. Alexander's face was twisted in pain and discomfort. He tried not to make a sound, not wanting to alert the other man just how much this was hurting him. "Alexander..." And then Kocoum touched something inside Alexander that left him keening and gasping for breath.

"Ko-kocoum..." The Brave touched that spot again and grinned at the reaction he received. Now that the pain in Alexander's face had receded, he could enjoy the body beneath his own. He ran the hand that wasn't occupied with pleasuring the man beneath him to Alexander's chest. He plucked and tweaked lightly at the dusty nipples, soaking up the moans and groans awarded to him. The Indian spit in his hand, making sure there was a generous amount in his palm, and brought it to his throbbing member. He made sure to thoroughly coat his member before positioning himself above the warm, welcoming body beneath him.

"_Vous êtes mon amour._ (You're my love.)" Though Alexander couldn't understand the words, he heard the emotions behind it. "_Pour toujours le mien._ (Forever mine.)"

"I love you" Alexander replied, mirroring the same emotion that Kocoum displayed. With the soft and loving words still hanging in the air between them, Kocoum sunk himself into the man under him. He groaned at the warmth he had pushed himself into was challenged in strength only by the answering howl from Alexander. Then their bodies were moving, thrusting and grabbing at each other.

Their coupling didn't last long, both of their emotions were high and they couldn't hold onto themselves as long as they wanted. Kocoum froze his body tight as a bow and sunk his teeth harshly into Alexander's neck, the pale man screamed. They both exploded, Alexander from the pressure on both that sweet spot inside him and the grip on the tender flesh of his neck. They clung tight to each other as they rode the waves of their orgasms, clutching themselves close.

"_Je Vous aime._ (I Love you.)" Kocoum said this as he slipped from inside Alexander, kissing the man on the mouth with a force that Alexander couldn't argue with. The red head let himself be lead into a world of post-coital bliss and loving kisses.

"I love you too, Kocoum." This English phrase was one of the few the Indian man had come to understand since he had known Alexander. They both smiled softly at the sound of Kocoum's name in Alexander's soft, tender voice. As their body temperatures returned to normal the noticed the breeze had picked up. The sweat on their bodies was cooling rapidly and both shivered. Kocoum dragged their clothes toward them and helped a boneless Alexander into his pants and shirt.

After both were dressed they laid back on the grass, holding each other face to face. They were just watching each other, black eyes locked on soft brown, breathing quietly and just being together. They would have laid there for hours if, at the moment that they were just relaxing completely into each other and the soft grass beneath them, Pocahontas walked through the thick brush and into the clearing. All in the clearing froze at the sight of the others, none really knowing what to say.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: NOT AT ALL REAL. COMPLETELY FICTIONAL. ALL ASSOCIATED CHARACTERS BELONG TO DISNEY.**

**Authors Note: Chapter six! YAY! Beta'd by the lovely Alex, for once written by me. There will only be two more chapters in this before it's done, just for anyone who cares.**

Pocahontas stood shocked by the sight before her. Yes, she had known that Kocoum had liked one of the pale skins but she had never thought he would act on said affection. It seemed so out of character for him. She had always known him to be very logical about situations, not let his emotions sweep him away. Did he have any idea what the tribe would do if they found out? Or what about the settlers? They wouldn't take kindly to this liaison.

"C'est quoi ça? (What is this?)" Questioned the woman, dark eyes staring intently on the two figures that lay still entwined on the ground.

Kocoum pulled away slowly, reaching a large, tan hand out to grab both his and Alexander clothes, while trying to block Pocahontas' view of Alexander, and passed each articles to their respective owners. The two men dress quickly in complete silence, aware that Pocahontas' eyes never left either of their forms. Once dressed, Kocoum turned to Alexander, roughly grabbing his upper arm and hauling him to the cover of the trees.

At the noise of protest from Pocahontas, Kocoum motions to her to stay, implying that only one of them was leaving the clearing. The red head stared at Kocoum in astonishment as he continued to allow himself to be pulled into the tree line, before he was roughly shoved away. Losing his footing at the harsh treatment, Wiggins fell to the ground, wide blue eyes staring questioningly at the figure towering above him. Kocoum's jaw was clenched tightly, his eyes narrowed as he took measured breaths through his nose, and this imposing figure left a quiver of fear in Alexander.

"Allée. (Go.)" Kocoum ground out, hand motioning that Alexander should leave. Shaking his head, Wiggins stood up, reaching a tentative hand out to his lover. He gasped when said hand was violently pushed away, causing the cuts from the Brave's rough treatment to burn and sting, and he was once again pushed further into the trees. Tears welled up in lapis eyes as both physical and emotional pain shot through his small form. Trying once more to touch his obviously enraged companion, Alexander almost screamed as a large fist slammed threateningly into the tree a near centimetre from his head.

"Allée!" Kocoum once again said, his voice threatening. Alexander shrank back from the hand the once again pushed him forward, albeit more gently this time. Tears dripped down the pale face as Alexander continued walking. Glancing back at Kocoum's tense form, seeing nothing of the man who had loved him a few moments ago, Wiggins took off running into the dark tree. Branches tore at his hair and clothing, gouging into his pale skin but the distraught man felt none of this. All he felt was the breaking of his heart of the one person he thought loved him betrayed him.

Kocoum walked back into the clearing after watching Alexander run away. He kept his back straight and head held high, looking very much the part of a Brave going off to battle. Pocahontas stood off to the left of the clearing, still near the tree line. She was staring off into the distance, obviously lost in thought.

Nearing the woman he once thought he loved, Kocoum stopped and waited expectantly for Pocahontas to say something. Neither moved nor spoke for a few moments before a large sigh left Pocahontas quietly.

"What are you doing?" Pocahontas asked in their native tongue, her dark eyes full of an emotion that Kocoum couldn't figure out.

The large male stood perfectly still, attempting to think of an answer to Pocahontas' question. What was he doing?

"What does it matter to you?" He fires back harshly.

"Do you have any idea what could happen if you two are found out. The tribe definitely wouldn't be happy. You're supposed to be chief some day and have many strong children. You can't have children with him! And he's an outsider. You know what happens with the outsiders. They're not like us. If anything, he could be the downfall of our entire tribe. You also know what would happen if his people find out. They'd kill him, and then come after you."

"I won't let them touch him." He hissed, venom dripping from his voice. These words left Kocoum without him realising it. His blood boiled with anger at the thought of anyone other than Kocoum himself touching his Alexander. Pocahontas' eyes widened at the outright display of emotions on her usually reserved friend. Reaching a hand up to smooth over Kocoum's arm, Pocahontas realized how much this pale skinned man must mean to Kocoum. Never had she seen Kocoum react so strongly for someone.

Pocahontas gracefully sat, her legs folded underneath her as she idly played with the long grass of the meadow. Kocoum followed suit, dropping much less gracefully into a heap on the ground. He laid back, arms stretched overhead as he watched the wind chase the clouds from the clear afternoon sky. Leaving the calming sight of the sky, Kocoum's eyes once again turned to watch Pocahontas and her reaction to everything. The Indian woman's brow was furrowed, concentration clear on her face. Kocoum could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she attempting to figure out exactly what was going on.

"You really care about him don't you?" she quietly asked. Letting out a large breath, Kocoum nodded, his eyes downcast. The Brave looked away, turning to stare aimlessly in the direction that Alexander had gone, every part of him aching to go after and apologize for the harsh treatment that Kocoum had bestowed upon the smaller male.

"There's no way he can go back to his village now." Pocahontas says quietly.

"I know." Kocoum sighed, seeming to deflate at the idea of Alexander no longer having a place to live. It was odd how much Kocoum had come to care for Alexander in such a short period of time. It was hard to imagine what life would be like if the red haired male left his life forever. He couldn't even imagine not seeing his beauty every day, let alone never again.

"He could come live with us, you know." Pocahontas suggested. Kocoum turned sharply to look at her companion, confusion written on his face.

"I can talk to my father. Make some sort of arrangement. With how much you care about this pale skin so obvious, there's no way they wouldn't allow it.

Hope shone bright in dark eyes as what Pocahontas had just said sunk in. That she was willing to go through such lengths for him sent feelings of such friendship. Alexander with him ...forever! Pocahontas gave out a screech of surprise as two tree trunk arms wrapped around her, lifting her feet off the ground as she was swung around by an overjoyed Kocoum. Laughing, she patted Kocoum's face affectionately as he put her down again. The smile that split the Brave's face could have made even stone smile and Pocahontas was happy to see such a positive reaction from Kocoum.

"Now go and find your little one. I'm sure he'll love to hear this." Pocahontas said, pushing Kocoum gently in the direction she had seen Alexander go. Kocoum moved off, and then abruptly turned back to Pocahontas, once again pulling her into a forceful hug.

"Thank you." Kocoum whispered in her ear, before taking off, running after his Alexander. Pocahontas just smiled again, watching as her companion disappeared into the thick trees.

Unbeknownst to the two of them, the wind heard of this conversation. It carried the words and its meaning high up, through and above the trees, swirling and dancing through the sky. The wind blew through the thickets and ponds, swamps and valleys, all the while the words riding it. It blew through the swaying leaves of a giant willow tree, whispering to her hidden ears of what had just passed. The tree smiled, happy of this plan that would surely work, with a little push from her.

Alexander ran and ran, trying to escape the pain of betrayal he felt. Tears streamed down his face as branches scratched at his skin. Finally coming to a stop, Alexander drew ragged breaths through his mouth, before collapsing and allowing the sobs to wrack his body. He cried his heart out, consumed by the betrayal of the one person he thought wanted him.

Wiggins couldn't understand why Kocoum had treated him so harshly after that woman finding them. 'Was he ashamed of me? Or embarrassed to be seen with me?' Alexander questioned himself aloud. Shaking his head, Wiggins shifted till he sat crossed legged on the ground, staring at the scene before him.

He had stopped at a sort of lake of sorts, lily pads and other aquatics plants floating gently in the water. Cat tails and tall grass swayed back and forth in the light breeze that ruffled Alexander's fiery locks. Looking higher, Wiggins took in the fact that he sat under a gigantic willow tree, her long branches hanging low, providing a sort of curtain for Alexander from the world.

Sighing, the distraught man brought his knees up, wrapping his arms around them and dropping his head to his knees. Tears continued to slowly fall, and Alexander drew shuddering breaths, attempting in vain to calm himself.

Thoughts ran rampant throughout his head, all focusing somehow on the situation that had passed not hours before. How could Kocoum have treated him so horribly so soon after the gentle treatment before? The only explanation that Alexander could think of was that he wasn't that important to Kocoum. Nothing more than something to keep the Brave amused until something better came along.

That thought left a cold and empty spot in Alexander's heart. He had grown to care very deeply for the other male and the idea that he was nothing more than a play thing made Wiggins chest ache. That there was any person who could use another like that sickened him.

So lost in his thought, Alexander failed to realize, that even though the wind is no longer blowing, the branches of the willow tree continue to sway back and forth above him. He doesn't see the sweeping branches reach down to him, wrapping him in their cool embrace. He does, however, hear the soothing voice begin to murmur comforting words in his ear from behind.

Pulling back in surprise, Alexander whips around, attempting to find who ever had just held him and spoke to him. Finding nothing but the gnarled willow tree behind him, Wiggins rationalizes that it was his imagination playing tricks on him. However, as he continued to stare at the great tree before him, Alexander could make out the features of a nose, a mouth, and two dark eyes peering curiously back at him.

Jumping back, a shriek left the young man's lips as he realized that the _tree_ was staring back at him. Due to his startled jump, Alexander lost his footing and fell unceremoniously into the river behind him. He rose from the water, sputtering, and looked back to the tree; the tree regarded Alexander with laughing eyes, its mouth curled up into a wide smile.

"I have to be dreaming." Alexander spoke aloud, still standing knee deep in water, staring at the willow tree.

"This is no dream child. Now come out of that water before you catch your death." The tree chided kindly, its branches reaching out to wrap around Alexander's wrists. Too shocked to do anything, the young man allowed himself to be lead out of the water, the branches of the tree idly picking water reeds out if his hair.

"What....how? How...what's going....?" Alexander mumbled unintelligibly, his blue eyes wide as his continued to allow himself to be directed by the tree until he was once again seated before it.

"I am Grandmother Willow. How is not important. What's important is me helping you with your problem with your Kocoum." The tree replied. Alexander's mouth fell open in shock to the fact that the tree was _talking_ to him and the fact it knew of his problem.

"Yes, I know of your problem. The winds and the trees tell me many things. They have also helped me in finding a way to fix your problem."

"How can you fix it? He doesn't want me!" Alexander cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He could again feel the burn of tears in his eyes and blinked harshly to dispel them.

"Do not think so poorly of your Kocoum. He loves you dearly. He just has an....odd way of showing it." Grandmother Willow reasoned, her branches soothing Alexander's tense form.

"Odd? More like messed up."Grumbled Wiggins. Grandmother Willow chuckled, her wise eyes seeing why and how easily Kocoum had fallen for this boy. "But how...how do I know that Kocoum wants me at all?" questioned Alexander, his voice small. Looking down at his hands, the young man twisted the hem of his worn shirt in his hands, a nervous habit he had developed as a child.

"All of this is new for Kocoum. He doesn't exactly know how to act, or how to treat those who he cares about dearly. Having Pocahontas, a girl he once loved, find you two scared Kocoum," Alexander's eyebrows rose, "believe it or not. He does care about you, very deeply. It's just a matter of how Kocoum shows you." Explained the tree.

Alexander sighed, eying the tree warily. What she said made sense, but it still didn't make any of this easier for the man. He still didn't know how, or if, he could fix the rift between him and Kocoum. And even if they did manage to fix it, where would they go from there? Kocoum definitely couldn't come live in the village, but Alexander didn't think that he could keep hiding what he felt for the Indian Brave. The daily goodbyes and never getting to spend the night with his dark skinned lover really took a toll on Alexander. He could imagine the same was for Kocoum if anything Grandmother Willow said was true.

"Do you love him?" Grandmother Willow's question startled Alexander out of his own jumbled thoughts.

"Yes. More than anyone I've ever met." Alexander replied without hesitation, a small smile gracing his lips as he once again thought of the wondrous feeling that seemed to fill him every time that he thought of the larger man.

Grandmother Willow smiled softly at the wistful look on the young man's face. She had seen love like this before, but never with the passion like what was between these two. Remembering what the winds had told her just moments before the red haired man stumbled into her path, Grandmother Willow decided what needed to be done so that these two deserving young ones could be happy together.

"I know of a way that you two could be together." Grandmother Willow whispered to Wiggins. At those words, Alexander's blue eyes looked hopefully into the knowing eyes of the old willow tree, so much hope filling his eyes that it made the ancient's heart ache.

"....How?" Alexander replied breathlessly. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, hope coursing through his veins. If there was a way, any way, for him to be with Kocoum, Alexander was going to try it, even if it meant risking everything he knows.

"There has been a few before you, pale skins, who have come and lived within the tribe. Though it is not very common, if the love between the two is true enough, the chief will allow it. You could come and live with Kocoum within his village, that way you two would be together always."

"Really?" Alexander asked with awe in his voice, "Would Kocoum agree to that?"

"Yes my child, I'm sure he will." Grandmother Willow said, eyes crinkling into a smile at the pure hope in the man before her, "Now go find him, child, and tell him this."

Alexander got up, stumbling over himself in his haste and needing to be caught once again by the loving branches of the willow. A huge smile graced the pale face, his body thrumming with energy and excitement at the prospect of having a way to be with Kocoum forever.

"Thank you so much." Called Alexander over his shoulder as he was already running into the thicket in search of Kocoum. Grandmother Willow chuckled before once again retreating into her home until the next time one of her children needed her.


	7. Chapter 7 Final Chapter!

**A/N:** Oh dear lord. This should not have been this long without updating. I kind of failed. Hardcore. Life just sidetracked me and I forgot about this. BUT HERE IT IS. Last chapter. End of story. Finito. And I would like to thank my lovely beta and aid in this story, who wrote more than half of this, Kievan Rus' Supernova. You are my hero. And to all of you who actually read this and review; I love you guys!

Alexander stumbled over yet another fallen log covered in mossy green lichen, cleverly disguised against the forest floor that was also covered with the fast growing moss. Picking himself up once again, Wiggins dusted himself off and continued trudging onward through the forest in what he hoped to be the right direction. In his previously distraught state, Alexander hadn't paid the slightest attention to where he was running, simply bent on escaping the heartbreak he had felt. In hindsight, that was the smartest of ideas due to the fact he was now hopelessly lost in the immense forest without any heading what so ever as to where he needed to be.

Not that he had any idea where he needed to be. Alexander only had the vague notion of going back to the clearing and somehow managing to find Kocoum to explain what Grandmother Willow had explained to the bewildered Englishman. Wiggins chose not to think about the fact that Kocoum may not be in the meadow, or even worse, that he may not even want to listen to anything Alexander had to say.

"Optimism is key," Alexander muttered to himself as he continued walking, pushing low hanging branches out of his way and avoiding all the shrubbery that attempted to snag his pant legs. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out over his face and chest at the effort Alexander was forced to put into his trek back. Somehow, none of the problems he encountered now had affected him beforehand.

Stopping, Wiggins looked around, praying to every god and deity he knew that he might recognize an iota of his surroundings from the occasional ventures he partook in with Kocoum. Sighing in dismay, Alexander swallowed the rising panic in his throat, attempting to calm himself with a few deep breaths. Wiggins knew that panicking would help him in no way but having heard some of the stories about the things that go bump in the night from the settlers, the young man couldn't help the increasing dread and panic he felt with every passing moment.

Alexander decided that continuing straight was the best course of action, and started to once again push his way through the tangle of ferns and trees that surrounded him. Pushing sweat matted hair out of his eyes, Wiggins let out a harsh sob as he tried to find his way back to somewhere he knew. Panic was starting to become harder and harder to suppress, and the young man's movements became more and more frantic. All of a sudden, his world pitched from underneath him and he was tumbling down, down, down. Hands grabbed again the rough earth, trying to find purchase to slow his fall, but everything was ripped savagely out of his hold due to his momentum.

Suddenly, Alexander was rammed hard into something very solid, halting his vicious tumbling. The world span for a few moments, and Alexander's hands clenched tightly onto the thing that had stopped his fall.

Opening his eyes, Wiggins looked towards the thing that had stopped his fall. His eyes were met with the familiar sight of bronze skin, adorned with the tribal markings common to the Natives in the area. Alexander gasped and ripped himself away from the form, his eyes flying to the face of Kocoum. However as he ripped himself away, Alexander felt pain shooting through his right leg; pain so intense that it cause him to crumple to the ground. Once again, however, strong arms caught him, preventing him from falling for the umpteenth time that day.

"Is Alexander...c'est quoi le mot? Hurt?" Came the deep rumble of Kocoum's voice directly into Wiggins' ear. Looking into Kocoum's face, Alexander saw the concern playing obviously across the Brave's feature and for a moment Alexander's world melted. Right before cold reality tore into his pleasant haze and the memories of what had just passed came back to him.

Stumbling away from Kocoum, Alexander latched onto a tree to his left, all of his weight leaning against the sapling. A thin sheen of sweat broke out across the red haired man's brow as he attempted to fight of the bile rising in his throat from the pain he was in.

"I'm fine." Wiggins rasped out, trying hard not pass out and let cruel reality slip away into darkness.

"You not fine." Was Kocoum's indignant reply, once again coming forward to support Alexander. Taking one of the smaller, much paler arms in his large hand, Kocoum hefted it around his shoulders and stood, wrapping his other arm around Alexander's waist. Due to the difference in their heights, this position to nearly all of the weight off of the injured male.

Alexander tried in vain to get away from Kocoum, determined to prove that he could do this on his own. Kocoum would have none of this, and tightened his hold on the smaller, giving him a stern look that told Alexander to stop struggling and let Kocoum help him. Sighing, Alexander stopped struggling, his body going limp as the exhaustion finally took over. Realizing that Kocoum was tugging him forward, Alexander tried to step forward as well, though his legs seemed stuck to the ground. Kocoum looked towards his companion in confusion, and seeing the exhausted state Alexander was in, Kocoum shifted their position around until he was carrying Wiggins bridal style with his injured leg cradled against Kocoum's chest.

Letting himself melt into the warm embrace of his lover, Alexander sighed. His mind was telling him that he shouldn't be forgiving Kocoum so easily, even after what Grandmother Willow had said, yet his heart was telling him to let it all go and to work things out. Wiggins' eyes began to steadily fall shut, Alexander's will to stay conscious diminishing every second. All too soon, he was asleep, pain laced exhaustion lulling him into deep unconsciousness as Kocoum carried him away.

Kocoum jogged into Grandmother Willow's clearing, careful of the precious bundle he held. Kocoum's thoughts swirled, a whirlwind of what to do, what would come next, and above all, Alexander. The look he had seen in those lapis eyes when the small man had run into him. Those blue eyes looked hurt and wounded, scared, but relieved, and angry at the same time. A sight that both broke his heart and caused relief to blossom in that same organ, knowing that he was the one to have caused that hurt, but at the same time rejoiced that he had found his love.

"Alexander…" Kocoum's voice was a mere whisper, barely discernable over the sound of the light breeze. "Oh…_chere _(dear)…" Kocoum stroked a dark finger down the side of Alexander's face, marvelling in the contrast as well as the purely angelic look that blessed the pale face. He sucked air through his nose, pulling the scent of his love into his nose. That smell went straight to his heart, warming it and causing a smile to bloom over his face. Settling himself to lean against Grandmother Willow, Kocoum held Alexander close, cradling the small body to his large chest.

Scratches and bruises adorned the porcelain skin, marks of the forest and the troubles Alexander had faced trying to navigate the dense brush. The small smile stayed on Kocoum's face as he smoothed his hands of the scrapes, glad to see that they were very minor, with no serious harm other than a bit of discomfort coming to Wiggins. Kocoum's gaze travelled lower, his eyes resting on the injured leg. It was swollen to twice its size, and blood could already be seen blossoming harshly beneath the skin in what would be a horrific bruise. The leg wasn't cock at an odd angle though, and after careful poking and prodding, Kocoum determined that the leg was still wholly intact.

Worry grace Kocoum's face when Alexander began to fidget, his small body burrowing further into the warmth of Kocoum, tucking the small red head further into the arms of the Brave. However, Alexander suddenly froze as he came to realized exactly where he was, and the position he was currently it.

The English man's head shot up, his body scrambling away but Kocoum's hold was too tight, and most of Alexander's struggling was in vain as he was still too

…" Alexander and Kocoum looked at weak from his previous romp in the forest to have much impact against the toned body of the brave.

"Child….relax…" Grandmother Willow's voice spoke just as Alexander opened his mouth, cutting off whatever he was about to shout at Kocoum. Both males turned to look at the weathered face of the old tree, her branches swaying lightly around them, enclosing them in a loose curtain.

"You both must be able to speak properly before this conversation happens. Listen to your hearts, my children, and you will be able to hear each other as their own." Grandmother said slowly, hear branches waving as a light dusting of what appeared to be pollen fell over the two. Kocoum stared in confusion and Alexander sat there looking dumbstruck, still unable to full grasp that there was a talking tree. Neither man said a word, both opting to still stare blanking at the spirit.

"Men! They never change!" The old Willow looked at the two stubborn young men and shook her branches in aggravation. "Listen to your hearts! I swear to the Goddess…you think you would listen to me." Alexander couldn't help but crack a smile at Grandmother Willow's mutterings and looked again at Kocoum.

"Why?" Alexander's question was directed at Kocoum and puzzled the brave greatly. Somehow, he was able to understand everything the smaller man said, even though his mouth made the wrong movements for Kocoum's own native language. It dawned on Kocoum that his is what Grandmother Willow meant when she spoke of listening to his heart. Since Alexander held his heart, he could understand him fully. It simple took a bit of magic from a great spirit for Kocoum to be able to see that.

"Why what? I do not understand Alexander…" The red-head looked at his Indian love in confusion about being able to understand him so perfectly, and then he thought of what Grandmother Willow had said and come to the same conclusion as his love had.

"Why did you push me away earlier? Are you ashamed of me? Do you not want me?" Alexander's voice was small and thin, like the trace of a needle on skin. Kocoum's face was startled and then upset at his questions. He quickly moved toward Alexander again and gripped his upper arms in a rough grip. The Englishman gasped and looked into the dark eyes above him.

"Do not say that!" Kocoum's voice was as rough as his grip, like rocks; it growled and rolled out his mouth in a deep, angry storm. "Do not ever doubt how much I want you! I pushed you away before, because I did not want Pocahontas to hurt you. I was afraid she would react badly…and try and injure you. No, I am not ashamed of you. I love you, very much, and I want you to live with me in my tribe." Kocoum's admission was filled with small pauses and awkward clearings of his throat; the brave wasn't used to sharing his feelings so openly. But it was sincere and Alexander understood that. He could do nothing more than throw himself it his Indian's arms and hug the life out of him. Kocoum laughed and hugged back, loving the way the man fit against his chest.

"I love you too Kocoum." Alexander whispered his admission in the large man's ear, causing the larger man to laugh at the breath tickling his ear. "So much…" Alexander placed a passionate kiss on Kocoum's smiling lips and slyly slipped his tongue against his partners own, slippery muscle. They played for minutes, dipping and tagging from one mouth to the other. Soon the red-head was spread-eagle on the ground, arms flung out to the side as Kocoum divested him of his shirt. For the second time that day Alexander was tortured by way of mouth on chest. Alexander drew his brave back up to him and brought lips to meet in a time-consuming kiss that brought forth their arousal.

By the time the night was over, Grandmother Willow was wishing her two children would have chosen a more private spot to show their love to each other, though she wouldn't change it in the world for she knew the love of the two men who lay cuddled together by her roots was a pure as can be. Letting out a small laugh, the great spirit of the forest covered the two in a soft blanket made up of leaves before retreating back into her home for a well deserved rest.

Weeks later, the town spoke of the disappearance of one Alexander Wiggins. Rumours circulated that he had been killed by a brave, or had hoped on a ship back to England because he couldn't take the 'new life'. Nobody knew exactly what had happened to the small red head, though in the end, nobody real cared. Except for a certain whale of a woman who was rather displeased to have not received her 'requested' drawing.

Early one morning, however, just after the disappearance of Wiggins, a servant had found a piece of paper, attached to the steps of the grand house, by a small arrow. The paper was heavy, that of an artist, and upon closer inspection, the servant discovered that the drawing that adorned the paper was one of great skill. Done it charcoal, it was of an Indian Brave, sitting leisurely against a giant willow tree. The detail put into the drawing was miraculous, making it seem almost as if the viewer was standing right there in that scene. The servant decided to keep the drawing, knowing not of its value but instead in love with the pure beauty of the art. It would sit in a small book in the servant's room, full of her own sketching of the plants and wildlife in the nearby forest, and she hoped too, that one day she would be able to draw with the same amount of skill as the drawing she had found. And signed in the bottom right hand corner, in elegant calligraphy, was _A. Wiggins._

The End.

_(Finally)_


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